


How Sandor Became a Cat Person

by Cecilia1204



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Kittens, Tumblr Prompt, pure fluff, real fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecilia1204/pseuds/Cecilia1204
Summary: Who would have thought a tiny ball of fur would tame Sandor Clegane?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this picture and a prompt by bighound-littlebird on Tumblr and the muse went into overdrive! It's actually heavily based on my kitten, Elsa, who I found in those circumstances (except it was Spring) and on her personality. Like Sansa, it was love at first sight. She's just turned a year old and she rules the roost in our house.

 

“Sandor!  Quick, come here!”

 

Sandor, who had been dozing on the lounge jumped up hastily at the sound of Sansa’s urgent call.

 

“What is it Little Bird?  Are you ok?” he replied as he quickly made his way to the front door.

 

“Yes, I’m fine, but you have to help me,” said Sansa, worry lacing her voice.

 

The front door was open, letting in an icy blast of winter air into their small house, and Sansa was waving at him urgently, still rugged up in her coat, scarf, hat and gloves.

 

“What’s wrong?  Come inside, Little Bird.”

 

“No, Sandor.  I can hear something coming from your car.  It sounds like a cat or kitten.  We have to look for it.”

 

“It’s freezing out there, Little Bird,” protested Sandor even as he pulled his boots and coat on.

 

“I know, and if there’s something out there, it won’t survive long in this weather,” replied Sansa urgently, striding quickly back to his big, black vehicle.

 

Their dog, Stranger, had followed Sandor to the door, trying to make his way outside. 

 

“Stay in here, you stupid mutt!  Do you want to freeze your balls off?” muttered Sandor as he closed the door behind him.  “I’ll probably freeze mine off in this cold,” he mumbled grumpily to himself.  “Are you sure you didn’t just imagine it, Little Bird?”

 

“No, I didn’t.  Ssh.  Did you hear that?”

 

The two of them froze in their steps, ears alert for any kind of sound.  Sure enough, a tiny mewling sound came from the engine of his car, which was still warm from when Sandor arrived home from work.

 

“Yeah, I heard it.  Let me open the bonnet.” 

 

Sansa secured the bonnet open and peered inside, in the deepening gloom.  Grabbing the torch he kept inside the glove box, Sandor shone the light onto the engine, searching for the origin of the noise.

 

“There!  Right there, in between those two thingamajiggies.  It’s a kitten!” cried Sansa pointing to a spot next to the engine cylinder.

 

A tiny little silvery tail was visible.  The rest was wedged against the metal. 

 

“Can you reach it, Sandor?”  Sansa’s voice was laced with worry for the tiny creature.

 

Sandor sighed internally.  It had to crawl into his engine space, didn’t it?  It couldn’t have gone next door?  He didn’t even particularly like cats. 

 

But he would do anything for his Little Bird.  And he could find a good home for it, he was sure of it.

 

“Here, hold the torch.”   He had not put his gloves on, so his hands were getting colder by the second and he wanted to go inside.  The quicker he did this, the quicker he could get back into the warmth.

 

Reaching over, he grabbed the back end of the kitten and gently pulled.  The kitten was stubborn and latched on to whatever it could find, putting up a fight and wriggling like a demented slinky. 

 

“Come on, you little shit,” he murmured.  “I’m trying to help you, you stupid animal.”

 

“It’s scared, Sandor,” admonished Sansa.  “Come on, little one.  Let go so we can get you warm and give you some food.  It’s too cold out here for little babies like you.”

 

Sandor shook his head at her tone but had to smile.  Sansa was always a kind-hearted one.  She married him, didn’t she?

 

Getting a firmer grip, but making sure not to hurt the kitten, Sandor pulled out a ball of hissing, spitting and scratching fur.

 

“Fuck!”  The little furball latched onto his unprotected finger and bit down.  And wouldn’t let go.  With it’s tiny, needle-like claws, it scratched every bit of skin it could reach.  “Stop that!  I’m trying to help you, you little piece of shit!”

 

“Here, give it to me,” said Sansa, reaching for the kitten, who consented to let go of Sandor’s finger and snuggle into Sansa’s woollen jumper.

 

“Fuck, that hurts!” moaned Sandor, holding up his mangled hand.  His finger dripped blood where the little devil bit it and he looked like he’d gone a few rounds with a feral rosebush.  “Look what it did!”

 

Sansa’s attention was all on the kitten as she wrapped her coat around it and was cooing to it to settle it down.  She barely glanced at his hand.

 

“Come on, darling.  Let’s get you inside,” she tutted.  “You poor little baby.  All alone in the world.  I wonder what happened to your mama.”  She continued speaking nonsense as she walked indoors, the kitten purring loudly in contentment.

 

“So much for gratitude,” grumbled Sandor, looking at his hand.  “Doesn’t even care that I got injured.”  Sulking, he followed them inside.

 

He went straight to the bathroom to clean and disinfect his hand.  Who knew what diseases the little shit had?  He could get gangrene or something.  He could die from toxoplasmosis.  Did cats carry toxoplasmosis?  Would the Little Bird even care?  He’d definitely have to get a tetanus shot, at the very least.

 

Treating his wounds as best as he could – his finger was swollen – he returned to the kitchen where Sansa was trying to open a can of tuna.

 

“Where’s Stranger?”

 

“I put him in the spare bedroom for now.  He was scaring the baby.”

 

“Should have eaten the thing, if you ask me,” he murmured.

 

“Sandor!  How could you say such a thing?  It’s just a baby!  Look, it’s so tiny.  I doubt it’s even eight weeks old.”  She held up the tiny cat in her hand, which seemed to have settled in, despite its ordeal. 

 

It was indeed tiny.  Sandor had no idea about cats, but even he could see it was very young.  It was a light, silver colour and it stared at him with huge yellow eyes for ages before it gave a tiny meow.

 

“Oh, listen to it!  Isn’t it gorgeous?” cooed Sansa as she brought it up to her cheek.   “Aren’t you, beautiful?  Who’s my beautiful baby?”

 

Sandor’s eyes widened in horror.  “Were not keeping it.”

 

Two sets of accusing eyes turned to him – one bright blue that always made his knees quiver, the other, yellow feline eyes that looked evil.  “Says who?”

 

Uh-oh!  He’d heard that tone before, usually right before Sansa gave him a serving for some indiscretion of his.  “It could be diseased.”

 

“We’ll take it to the vet tomorrow.  She looks healthy enough to me.”

 

“She?”

 

“It looks like a ‘she’.  She’s so pretty.”

 

“It could have owners already,” he pointed out hopefully.

 

“What kind of owners let a tiny baby wander out in this kind of weather?  Bad ones, obviously.  She’s better off without them.”

 

Sandor could see where this was going so he tried one last gambit.  “What about Stranger?  How do you think he’ll like some cat in the house?”

 

“Dogs and cats can learn to get along, Sandor.  Have you not watched any of the Youtube videos proving it?  She’s small enough to get used to Stranger and he’ll do the same.  You’ll see.”

 

“What if he eats it?”

 

“Sandor!  Don’t be stupid.  Stranger’s a good dog.  He’ll do nothing of the sort.  We’ll supervise them carefully at first.  Lady will learn to love him.”

 

“Lady?”

 

Sansa held up the purring kitten.  “Meet Lady Clegane.”

 

“She’s not using my name!”

 

“Of course she is.  She’s our baby now.  Stranger’s last name is Clegane.  Now his little sister is too.”

 

Sandor just shook his head and left the room, muttering curses at the cat, the heavens, the weather, anything.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

Despite his dire predictions, Stranger absolutely adored the kitten. 

 

“Traitor,” muttered Sandor as he passed the dog and cat curled up together, the kitten taking up most the dog bed, which she preferred over the pink, sparkly bed Sansa got her.

 

Lady had only been five weeks old, according to the vet, confirming she was definitely a ‘she’, and after a round of vaccinations, worming and de-fleaing, four weeks later, she was a round ball of silver fur that practically ruled the house.

 

Sandor tried to keep his distance.  He really did.  But she wouldn’t leave him alone.  He tried ignoring her, growling at her, walking away.

 

Yet, Lady had seemed to have developed an attachment to him.  As he walked around the house, she trotted behind him.  If he closed the door on her, she would sit and wail piteously until he growled and let her in.  Who would have thought a cat that small could be that loud?

 

If he sat down to watch tv after dinner, she would climb up the sofa – she was a damn good climber, as Sansa’s curtains could attest to – and onto his lap, stomach, chest, whatever felt most comfortable and fall asleep.  Though not before she purred, dribbled and clawed him until she fell asleep.

 

He would ask Sansa to get the cat off him but she’d just giggle and say that Lady wanted to snuggle with her daddy.

 

Damned cat.

 

Sandor did draw the line at letting the cat in when he and Sansa went to bed.  Nothing killed the mood quicker than getting tiny claws impaled in your arse when you were deep in the throes of passion, as he found out to his cost a few nights after they found her.  After that, she was banished to her bed, which ended up being Stranger’s bed.

 

Yet, despite his grumbles and whining, he couldn’t help chuckling at her antics.  At times she ran around the house like her tail was on fire, Stranger just watching her in bemusement.

 

At other times, Stranger was the victim of her hijinks.  He would walk through the hallway and a leaping ball of fluff would land on his back.  Sandor would have thought the dog, ten times bigger, might have been tempted to hurt her, but Stranger never did.  He patiently let Lady ‘wrestle’ him, play with his tail, hang off his tail, steal his bed, all with a happy wag of his tail.

 

The house was looking like a kitten kindergarten as Sansa kept bringing home new toys for her ‘baby’.  Sandor would watch her play, and when Sansa wasn’t around, would even play with her, dangling fluffy feathers in front of Lady to make her leap for them.

 

When Lady was about eight months old, Sandor noticed that she was listless and refused to eat.  He became terribly worried as Lady adored her food, even attempting to eat Stranger’s at times.

 

Sansa wasn’t home yet, so he put the kitten in her carrier and raced to the vet.  After being reassured that Lady was fine, she’d probably eaten something she shouldn’t have, a relieved Sandor drove home.

 

“It’s only because I wouldn’t want the Little Bird to be worried about you, cat,” he told the kitten who looked at him through the cage door.  “It’s not because I’m fond of you, or anything.  So don’t go getting any ideas!”

 

“Meow."

 

“That’s right.”

 

The stress of a sick cat must have taken it’s toll on him and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep on the sofa.

 

And that’s how Sansa found him – fast asleep with a silver furball curled up as close as she could get under his chin, Sandor’s hand holding her securely in place.

 

Sansa just smiled fondly.

 

And that's how Sandor became a cat person.

 

                                             

 

 

 


End file.
